


A Certain Time and Place

by Melandra



Category: Robin of Sherwood, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:18:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melandra/pseuds/Melandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley Crusher recreates the world of Robin of Sherwood in the holodeck... Gulnar sees an opportunity</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Certain Time and Place

Wesley Crusher, Acting Ensign, leant back in his chair and wished he could be on the bridge. Even when nothing particularly interesting was happening, at least he was there. Part of things. Able to observe the comings and goings of day-to-day life on the Starship Enterprise. Even the diabolically difficult assignments that Data set him were better than this. He glanced round at his classmates. Most of them were intently staring at the screens in front of them, although a few were gathered round the teacher, making appreciative noises about the antique book she was showing them. Wesley debated getting up to join them, then decided against it. Instead he reverted to his usual pastime during this class. The study and appreciation of Melissa Julian, blonde, beautiful and sitting right next to him.

He had never wanted to take the course on Comparative Mythology and Legends. It seemed inappropriate to his other interests, boring and almost unreal. True, understanding a people's heroes and legends did help understand that people, and any such knowledge would be useful in gaining entrance to Starfleet Academy. But it seemed such a waste of time. One of the few benefits of the course had been meeting Melissa, whose parents had recently joined the anthropology team of the Enterprise.

Unfortunately, Melissa barely seemed to have noticed his existence. Apart from a few smiles and the occasional hello, she totally ignored his attempts to get better acquainted. At this particular moment she was gazing at the screen, her face enrapt, her eyes shining. She scrolled forward a few screens, then leant back, lost in admiration before the face on the viewer. Wesley looked in disgust at the face, one he had seen so many times before. No matter what the week's lecture was about, somehow Melissa seemed always to return to that one particular image. Plucking up his courage, Wesley leant over to her.

'Who is that, anyway ?' he asked, trying to make the question sound as casual as possible.  
Melissa started, then turned to look at him, her eyes huge. 'Robin Hood. Or Robert of Huntingdon if you prefer. As portrayed during the late 1980's. Isn't he wonderful ?'  
Wesley looked once more at the handsome face staring back at him from the viewscreen. Better looking than him, anyway. 'I can't really say,' he answered. 'I've never really studied the subject.'  
Once more she tore herself away from the screen. 'Oh, you really must,' she enthused. 'It's all available in the library. I'm studying him for my project,' she said, as way of explanation.

As the buzzer sounded the end of class, Wesley left to get ready for his bridge duty. But at the back of his mind, a plan was forming. A plan that would, with any luck, get him the girl of his dreams, as well as a bit of adventure. And gradually, as he watched the old videos, he felt himself being drawn slowly into another world, a world of mystery and magic, of heroes and villains. And soon, as his program on the holodeck gained in sophistication, he found he was not doing it for Melissa, but for himself. He worked frantically, spending every spare minute on his recreation of Sherwood Forest. And when, at last, he was satisfied with it, he did not take Melissa to meet her dreamworld. But he dressed himself in green and brown, and set off into the wood. Alone.

 

Somewhere, deep in the forest, Gulnar sat by a deep pond, gloating and chuckling to himself. The evil man held aloft the skull he always carried, and smiled as the sun's first rays reflected off its polished surface. Then, as the sunlight hit the pool, he stared deeply into the shimmering waters, and cackled with joy. 'He is coming,' he said, his voice low and harsh. 'The warrior is coming. And through him will Robin die. '

'Data ? Do you know where Wesley is ?' Geordi, looking slightly annoyed, came up to stand behind his friend. 'He was supposed to be coming down to Engineering to give me a hand.'  
Data left the captain's chair where he had been sitting, and returned to his ops panel. 'No, Geordi, he has not been here,' he said. 'In fact, he has not been on the bridge outside his scheduled duty periods for three point seven days. I find that rather intriguing.' His brow slightly furrowed, he accessed the locator on the panel in front of him. The pleasant female voice responded immediately. 'Acting Ensign Crusher can be located on Holodeck 4.'  
Looking rather disappointed, Data looked up at Geordi. 'Mystery solved,' he said. But Geordi did not seem satisfied.  
'Computer, how long has Ensign Crusher spent in the Holodeck recently ?'  
A long list of times scrolled up on the viewscreen. 'That long !' commented Geordi. 'Computer, please give the name of the current scenario on Holodeck 4.'  
'Scenario is called Robin of Sherwood,'  
'Thank you, Computer,' Geordi said, turning to Data. 'Well ?' he asked.  
'Sherwood Forest. Outlaws. The Sheriff of Nottingham ...' Data, a faraway look in his eyes, sounded as if he could go on indefinitely. Geordi, with a laugh, lifted a hand to stop him. Data, rather reluctantly, stopped. 'I find the prospect most interesting. Should we investigate further ?'  
But Geordi shook his head. 'He's off duty, Data. And if Wesley has decided he's got other things to do in his spare time than help us, I think we should leave him alone. But if he misses something more important, like classes or bridge duty ...'  
'He would never do that, my friend. Never.'

But even the most unlikely things happen sometimes. At the time when Ensign Bates was due to be relieved at the Conn, Wesley Crusher had still not arrived. Data was about to call him, when Captain Jean Luc Picard strode onto the Bridge.  
'Where is Ensign Crusher ?' One quick glance round the bridge crew had been enough to tell Picard that someone was missing. Data, who had rapidly vacated the Captain's chair and was sitting back at the Ops station, turned to face him.  
'Wesley is currently situated in Holodeck 4, Captain,' he said, his golden eyes sincere and slightly worried. 'I have tried contacting him without success...'  
Picard sat down, and called the Holodeck. 'Ensign Crusher, report please. This is the Captain. Ensign Crusher !' There was no response. With a faint sign of annoyance, he turned back to Data. 'Commander Data, please go down to the Holodeck, and retrieve our Acting Ensign. And make it quick.' His last comment was superfluous. Data was in the turbo lift before the Captain finished his sentence...

'Do you mind some company ?' Geordi joined Data in the lift. 'My shift just finished, and I could do with some greenery for a while.'  
'Certainly, my friend. But the Captain wants Wesley on duty as soon as possible. It is not like him to miss his shift.'  
Geordi grinned. 'Still, there's nothing to stop us enjoying the Holodeck, once we've retrieved the missing Ensign, is there ?'  
Data, his head to one side, considered the matter. 'You are correct, Geordi. I have never before experienced life in the Middle Ages. It could be most interesting.' Arrived at the Holodeck door, he paused to examine the status monitors. Program : Robin of Sherwood. Programmer : Wesley Crusher. Further information showed that the simulation was proceeding and that... 'Geordi ? This indicates that Wesley is not inside the Holodeck !'  
'What ?' Geordi activated his communicator. 'Wesley Crusher ? Report please !' As before, there was no answe r. He looked at Data, worry replacing the previous faint amusement.  
Data accessed the Computer. 'Locate Ensign Crusher,' he requested, his voice as calm as ever.   
'Ensign Crusher is not available,' the cool voice replied.  
'Repeat. Where is Ensign Crusher ?'  
'Ensign Crusher is not on the Enterprise,' the computer rephrased.  
Puzzled, Data looked at his friend. 'We should inform the Captain,' he stated.   
Geordi nodded. 'But we might be able to give him more to go on if we do a little investigating first.'  
'Perhaps you are right. Computer, open the Holodeck.'  
'Privacy lock has been activated,' the Computer replied.  
Data did not often use his rank, but now he was following orders. 'Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander Data. Open Holodeck.'  
The massive doors slid open, and Data and Geordi stepped inside. Almost instantly, the doors slid shut behind them.

'Wow !' Geordi said, turning to look around him. 'This is nothing like the usual forest scenery.'  
Data nodded. 'I agree. It has a much denser feel. Older.'  
'More realistic.' They were standing in a small clearing, surrounded by massive trees. The sky above, what little they could see through the thick greenery, was dull and grey. Geordi rubbed his hands together, and shivered. 'It's also cold !' he complained. 'I think we should have dressed more appropriately for this, don't you ?'  
Data, who had already started striding through the trees, turned back. 'Do you wish to obtain more suitable clothing, Geordi ? We could come back later !'  
But Geordi shook his head. 'We've got to find Wesley first. Captain's orders, remember. Any ideas ?'  
Data's eyes took on the slightly distant look that meant he was accessing his data banks. 'The legend of Robin Hood,' he said. 'An outlaw who was said to live with his men in Sherwood Forest, England, possibly during the time of Richard III or King John. Among the members of his band were said to be the Maid Marion, Friar Tuck, John Little and others. Some versions state that Robin was a nobleman, even the Earl of Huntingdon. Others say he was a peasant. He was said to take from the rich to give to the poor.' Data looked rather apologetic. 'There is not much solid fact to go on, is there ?'  
'Wait a minute, Data. Wesley didn't call this program Robin Hood, did he ? Or even Sherwood Forest. He called it Robin of Sherwood. Why such a definite name ?'  
'As in a particular version of the legend !' He shook his head. 'Unfortunately, I do not have that information in my memory banks. And I do not like to shut off this program to enable computer access. We still do not know what has happened to Wesley.'  
At that moment, an arrow hissed past Data's right ear. Another hit a tree immediately above Geordi's head. 'Data ! Down !' Geordi cried, hitting the ground.  
'Good idea,' came a voice from high above them. 'Get down and stay down. And then you can tell us who you are and what you are doing in Sherwood.' Data and Geordi looked on in amazement as two figures in ragged clothing dropped from the highest branches, longbows pointed directly at their heads.

'Stop Program,' Data commanded, as the older of the two men advanced towards him. 'Computer, stop program !'   
'Shut up,' the man snarled. 'Don't speak unless you're spoken to !'  
'Aye, you do as he says,' the younger man agreed.  
Data looked desperately at Geordi, who spoke out. 'Computer, this is Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge. Open Doors immediately !'  
The older man looked at the younger one, and laughed. 'We've got a right pair of madmen here !' he said.  
'Court jesters, most like ! Look at their clothes !'  
Will Scarlet looked dismissively at the two on the muddy ground. 'On your feet,' he said, prodding Data with the end of his bow. 'Let's see what you've got. There's a fine to be paid for entering Sherwood, you know !'  
They scrambled to their feet, both frantically wishing the computer would respond. Data tried first to reason with them. 'We are looking for a young friend of ours,' he began.  
'Shut up !' repeated Scarlet. 'You'll talk when I say so. Now hand over your purses.'  
'We have none,' said Geordi. 'It's as he said. We're looking for a friend. A young boy. We think he must be lost. Or captured. We thought Robin Hood might be able to help us.'  
'You did, did you ?' Scarlet sneered. He looked round at Much, and raised his eyebrows.   
'Do we take them to him ?' Much asked.  
'Perhaps. But you'll hand over those cloak broaches first,' he said, indicating their communicators. 'And that mask you wear !' He pointed to Geordi's VISOR.  
'No !' Geordi was adamant. 'Anything else, but not this.' But he was too late. Will Scarlet grabbed the Visor, and pulled it from Geordi's eyes. Arms flailing, Geordi reached out desperately for his only means of vision. Unstable on the icy mud, he lost his footing, tripped and fell awkwardly to the ground. And then he lay still.  
Data leapt to his side, quickly summoning his medical knowledge to check his friend out. Possible concussion. Slowly, deliberately, he got up, and moved to Will's side. He gripped the outlaw's arm, just above the elbow, and lifted him clear off the ground. Much stood by, eyes wide. Not even Little John could do that !  
'My friend is hurt,' Data said in his calm, even voice. 'And unless you wish to find yourself in the same situation, you will take us to Robin Hood.'   
Will Scarlet, arms and legs dangling above the forest floor, nodded emphatically.

In another part of the forest, Gulnar sat and gloated. His plan was working. He stared into the murky waters, and rubbed his hands in glee as the pictures came clear. 'The warrior is mine,' he muttered. 'The warrior will come to me. And then all will come clear.' And far away, on a starship bridge, the Chief of Security lifted up his head and howled.

'Worf ? What did you mean by that display ?' Captain Picard sat behind his desk, and looked sternly at the Klingon. 'I will not have such disturbances on my bridge, do you hear ?'  
It was not possible for Lieutenant Worf to look sheepish, nor would such an emotion be permissible to a warrior. Yet Worf did feel - uncomfortable - with his earlier behavior. It was not fitting for someone as highly placed as he to lose control in such a way. And for no discernible reason. Worf looked the Captain straight in the eyes. 'I can assure you it will not happen again,' he said. May I be dismissed ?'  
'No, damn you ! I demand more of an explanation than that. What happened out there ?'  
Worf shook his head. 'I do not know, Sir. Something came over me.'  
'Something came over you,' Picard seemed to savour the words. 'Something came over you...'  
Worf's misery was interrupted by Commander Riker's voice. 'Captain ? I think we have a problem. I tried to contact Data, and got no response. And now the duty Engineer says Lieutenant LaForge is out of contact too.'  
'In my Ready Room, Number One. Councellor Troi too. ' He looked up at Worf. 'That doesn't mean you've heard the last of this, Lieutenant. But you might be needed out there. So go on.'

'Report, Number One !'  
Riker cleared his throat, and looked at his Captain. He was not going to like this ! 'Well, Sir, we have mislaid three members of the Bridge Crew. Ensign Crusher, Commander Data and Lieutenant LaForge. Computer insists they are no longer on board the ship. All three were last seen in or around Holodeck 4'  
'Which is running ?'  
'Eh, yes Sir. Running a scenario written by Wesley. Quite innocuous, as far as we can see. Even links in with one of his school projects.'  
'Councellor Troi, have you anything to add ?'  
Deanna Troi shook her head. 'Nothing constructive, Captain. I did sense something for just a moment, something very powerful. And evil. But - nothing since.'  
'And when was this ?'  
Deanne looked across the table at Worf. 'When the Lieutenant cried out,' she said, softly.  
Picard leant back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the desk. 'I do not like this,' he muttered. 'Something is very wrong.' Sitting upright, he turned to Worf. 'Take a security team down to the Holodeck. Fully armed. And a specialist from Engineering. Get that thing turned off. But safely. Then go in there and get them out. Do you hear me ?'  
Worf leapt to his feet. 'Yes, Sir,' he said.

When Worf got to the Holodeck area, he was surprised to see a young girl waiting by the door. 'You !' he barked, 'What are you doing here ? This area is out of bounds !'  
She turned round to face him, shocked. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'But Wesley told me to meet him here. So I thought ...' her voice trailed off.  
Worf moved closer. 'Who are you ? You have been in contact with Wesley Crusher ? When ?'  
'I'm Melissa Julian. Wesley's in some of my classes. He left me a note. On my studyviewer. He said he had a surprise for me.' She glanced up at the viewscreen, and smiled. 'He knows I love Robin of Sherwood ! He must have worked really hard to set up a holodeck program for me. I can't wait to see it.'  
Worf thought hard. This girl obviously knew more about the subject than he did. If they were in trouble in there, she could be useful. So instead of chasing her away as he had first intended, he signaled her to one side. 'Wait there !' he said. 

The Engineer turned to Worf. 'I'm sorry, Sir,' he said. 'I just don't understand it. I can't get it to respond at all. Something is stuck !'  
'That much is obvious,' muttered Worf. Just their luck that the three people most likely to solve Holodeck problems were at that moment lost inside it. Or somewhere else entirely. He turned to the Holodeck door. 'This is Lieutenant Worf. Open !'  
The engineer looked on in amazement as the door slid open, revealing the forest within. Worf stepped in. But instead of staying open for the rest of the team, the door shut instantly. It was only because of her speed and smallness that Melissa managed to slip inside, her eyes shining.  
Somewhere from behind the trees, a voice whispered 'Enter, Warrior. I have been waiting for you !'   
And outside, the security team and engineers looked at amazement at the holodeck door, which appeared to have fused itself shut. As if it never meant to open again.

'Robin ! Robin ! Look what we found near the Wickham road ! Strangers !' Much ran into the campsite, waving his bow in excitement. Robin sat next to Marion by the fire, the flames playing on Marion's rich auburn locks, and turning his own golden hair to red. Night fell early these cold winter's nights, and the outlaws were glad of their warm fire and sheltered glen. Robin stood up, and looked on with amazement as Much was followed by Data, carrying the unconscious Geordi. A slightly sheepish Will brought up the rear.   
Before anyone could ask, Will leapt to his own defense. 'Well, how was I to know he was blind ? He didn't move like a blind man. Not until he fell. So I say it's his own fault.' Saying that, he threw his arrows down and sat by the fire, warming his hands.  
'Who are these people, Much ?' Robin asked. 'Why did you bring them here ?'  
Data, who had laid Geordi down in the firelight, answered for him. 'We mean you no harm,' he said, 'We are searching for a young -' he accessed his datafiles for the right word. 'A young kinsman of ours. He came this way yesterday, and no more has been heard of him.'  
'You're not from around here, are you ?' Robin asked.  
Data shook his head. 'No, we are strangers. We had heard of Robin Hood, and thought he might help us find our friend. Are you he ?'  
Robert of Huntingdon stood tall in the firelight. 'They call me Robin Hood,' he said. 'If we can help, we will. But first we must see to your friend. Marion, is he badly hurt ?'

On the other side of the fire, Will sat shaking his head. He could not believe what he had seen. The stranger in gold and black looked so lithe, almost fragile. He would never have guessed he could hide such strength. He rubbed the arm that Data had held. Such a grip ! He glanced once more at Data, who crouched by Marion, as if nothing had happened. 'I'd rather have him as a friend than an enemy,' he muttered to himself. 'Any day !'

When Geordi had been made comfortable, Data was invited to share the outlaws' evening meal. Fascinated, he watched as Robin lifted his bowl and gave thanks to Herne. He ate as little as possible, not wanting to arouse suspicion. He was not sure how these people would take the news that he was an android. When the meal was finished, Robin came over to him.  
'Now, tell us who you are. And what you are doing here.'  
Data sat down in the midst of the outlaws. Tasha Yar's words kept coming back to him. 'When you have to lie, keep it simple !' He called Tasha's picture up from his memory banks, young and beautiful as always. Keep it simple. He would have to try.   
'My name is Data,' he began. 'My friend is called Geordi. We are from Starfleet, far away. Our kinsman, Wesley, was in search of adventure, and so headed for Sherwood. We have not heard of him since, and fear he might have fallen into trouble.'  
'You said you had heard of me,' Robin asked.  
'Your fame travels far, Robin Hood,' Data replied. 'As does that of your men. We hoped you might have seen our young friend. That you might be able to help us.'  
Robin looked round. 'Nasir ? Have you seen any strangers ?' The silent Saracen shook his head, and Robin turned back to Data. 'Was he dressed like you ? Such clothes must surely have left their mark in the villages.'  
Data put his head to one side, considering. 'I do not believe so,' he said. 'It is most probable that he has adopted a style of dress very similar to yours.'  
Robin looked round at the band of outlaws. 'Well, shall we help ? Little John ? Tuck ? What do you think ?'  
'It's our Christian duty,' Tuck commented.  
'And something to do. The Sheriff has been too quiet recently.'  
'Will ? ' Robin asked, expecting problems.   
But Will picked up his bow, and grinned. 'I say we help him,' he said, rubbing his arm. 'Definitely.'  
'That's settled, then.' He turned to Data, smiling. 'We'll start asking around in the villages tomorrow. But now, you must be tired, Data' he said. 'It is late. We will talk further in the morning.'  
As the group lay down to rest, Data chose a suitable place on the grassy bank, and sat down. It was good that he did not need sleep : he really needed the time to think. He glanced around, using his extended vision to try to recognise anything in this wild wood. He had always been able to distinguish the Holodeck from reality. Even when others could not see the walls, they were plain to him. But now - all he could see was forest. Endless forest. Following the thought to its logical conclusion, they could not be in the Holodeck. But where were they ? In Sherwood Forest ? And where was Wesley ? There were times, Data decided, when all his deductive capabilities were not worth anything at all.  
No matter what this was, Data decided, it was a fascinating opportunity for study and the gathering of information. These people, their clothes, their way of life. It all seemed so - so green, so close to nature. He considered the band of outlaws. They were surely far from mere holodeck creations. Surely no computer could create the fire that shone from Robin's eyes, the eagerness of Much, Will's fierce loyalty. Or Nasir, silent, waiting. Like Worf, Data thought. And somehow the idea troubled him. Worf. And Nasir. Could the holodeck computer create someone like Marion ? He glanced over to where she slept, her auburn hair fanned out around her. Data was unsure of the full criteria of human beauty, but something told him that Marion would be considered beautiful by any means of judgment. Such strong bonds linking Robin to his men. And his woman. Almost like the strong team spirit between the bridge crew. Family.

The camp awoke when the first birds started singing. Data, dressed in oddments of clothing donated by the others, went first to check on Geordi. Marion joined him there.  
'He has a fever,' she said, feeling Geordi's forehead. 'We will have to keep him warm. And still.' She looked up at Data, her face serious. 'Has he always been blind ?'  
'Since birth, I believe,' Data answered. He had concealed the VISOR in his uniform, not wishing to further complicate matters with Robin's men.   
Marion brushed her hair from her face. 'He should visit Croxden Abbey,' she said, 'The Cross of St. Ciricus has been known to work great miracles.' She put a hand on Data's arm, and smiled. 'Don't worry about your friend,' she said. 'I'll look after him.'

'And now we'll see about finding your young kinsman,' said Robin, coming up behind them. 'Tuck !' he called, 'You and Much stay here with Marion. The rest of you, with me !' With barely a backwards glance, they left the clearing and headed back towards the Wickham road.

Geordi woke in the early morning light. He could feel the sunshine on his face, although it was bitterly cold. He reached out blindly for his VISOR. Nothing there. 'Data !' he called, beginning to panic. 'Wesley ?'  
'Hush, you must not move too soon,' a soft voice said, and Geordi relaxed. Someone laid a cool hand on his forehead, and he smelt some strange fragrance. 'Tis just a poultice,' the same gentle voice said. 'You hit your head badly. You must rest.' And as the gentle hand continued to stroke his hair, Geordi decided that rest did, indeed, sound very tempting.   
'Who are you ?' he whispered, reaching out with one hand.  
'Marion. Marion of Leaford. Hush, now.' She took his hand in hers, and held it until he did, finally, sleep.

If anyone had asked Wesley Crusher, he would have agreed that the horse had been a mistake. An even greater mistake had been attempting to jump that grassy bank. The fact that Sir Guy of Gisburne had been riding along the road at that moment had just been bad luck. Very bad luck. Wesley shivered, remembering the look on Gisburne's face as he towered over him, his cloak torn, his face muddy, and his horse long gone. Explanations had been pointless.   
Wesley looked around him. It was dark, damp, and smelled bad. The straw under him was filthy, and the only light came from the grill set high in the ceiling. He knew where he was. He recognised the dungeons under Nottingham Castle. Something walked over his hand, and he jumped. A rat. In spite of everything he smiled. 'Hello, Arthur !' he said, stroking the creature.  
'How do you know his name ?'   
Realising his mistake, Wesley shrugged his shoulders. 'Lucky guess.'  
'Not lucky to be down here,' the old man said, edging closer to the boy. 'Only one way out of here, and that's feet first. Isn't it, Arthur ?' He picked up his pet, and, cackling softly, retreated into the shadows.  
Wesley leant back against the damp walls, wondering what had gone wrong. Once again he tried. 'Computer, this is Wesley Crusher. Stop Program ! Stop the program.'  
There was no response. As Wesley had known there would not be. For he had programmed Sherwood Forest into the Computer. And he knew perfectly well that neither Sir Guy of Gisburne, or Nottingham Castle, had been amongst the elements he had inserted with such care and detail.   
'Poor lad. Talking to himself already, Arthur. He won't last long, will he ?'  
Wesley shut his eyes, trying hard not to cry. But in spite of himself, the tears welled up and spilled over onto the dank straw.

A man with a purpose, Lieutenant Worf strode through Sherwood Forest, eyes alert. Somewhere behind him, Melissa Julian tried hard to keep up. She had called out, once or twice, when they first entered the Holodeck, but Worf did not seem to have heard. Finally, exhausted and scared, she collapsed on a soft, green bank, and put her head in her hands. She would catch up with Worf later. Now, she just needed to rest.  
Sitting by the deep pool, Gulnar chuckled to himself. 'He comes, he comes,' he gloated, sprinkling the contents of a cloth bag over the sparkling water. 'He comes, and he shall be mine. And he shall be a killer. For the heart, the soul of a warrior lies within him, and he shall conquer. For me !' He held the skull aloft. Then, as Lieutenant Worf burst through the undergrowth, he lifted his arms in greeting. And Worf, without quite knowing why, sank to his knees, and bowed his head. And when the bowl was passed to him, he drank deeply. As the powers of darkness flowed into his mind and soul, all chains binding his heart and mind broke free, leaving only a killing machine. He ripped the starfleet uniform from his body, tearing it into shreds. And in spite of the bitterly cold day, clad in only his sash, rags and skins, he lifted the mighty sword Gulnar had given him and left the clearing, his mind ringing with the instructions he had been given. Kill. Kill Robin Hood. Kill his men. Kill anyone. Kill.

'What is going on down there, Number One ?' Jean Luc Picard was pacing round his office, trying to come up with some logical reason as to why the computer would insist that the larger part of his key staff were not currently present on the ship.   
Commander Riker, clearly a puzzled man, leant back in his chair, and scratched his chin. 'We cannot get the door to the holodeck open,' he repeated. 'But we could try transporting someone into the middle of the holodeck.'  
'Risky,' Picard said.  
'True, but possibly our last remaining chance. We simply have no idea what is going on in there. Everyone who has gone near that place has simply disappeared. We can't just sit around and hope for the best.'  
Picard resumed his pacing. 'How am I to explain to Beverly Crusher that her son has disappeared into Sherwood Forest ?' he muttered, shaking his head. 'It just doesn't make sense. I will have to go in there myself. Get the transporter chief to set up the co-ordinates, Commander !'  
Riker sat up abruptly, almost losing his balance. 'Sir ! I cannot permit it !'  
Picard, his hands firmly planted on his desk, faced Riker straight in the eyes. 'You will permit it, Number One. Firstly, I am the Captain, and this is my ship. Secondly, if we really are dealing with thirteenth century Britain, then the country is run by the Normans. The French, Riker. Do you not think I might possibly have the advantage there ? So I must insist, I am afraid.'  
Realising that he was not likely to swing the Captain's mind this time, Riker capitulated. 'I will contact the Transporter Chief, Sir,' he said, pulling himself up to his full height.  
'Make it so, Number One,' the Captain nodded. 'Make it so.'

The mist came up suddenly. Swirling, gathering around their feet. Robin, his golden hair shining brightly, lifted one hand and walked, alone, towards the light shining beyond the trees. Data, curious, looked questioningly at his companions. Nasir shook his head solemnly. Will, shading his eyes from the light which suddenly seemed too bright, sat down on a fallen tree-truck. Glumly, he shook his head. 'Must be something going on,' he muttered, unenthusiastically.  
'Something ?' Data asked.  
'If Herne decides to talk to his Son, there's usually trouble ahead.'  
'Trouble for us,' Little John agreed.

'Beware, my Son. Evil is awakening. The Warrior hunts in Sherwood.'  
'What Warrior ?'   
'He from another time and place. Help the strangers, Robin i' the Hood, ere you seal your own doom.'  
Then Herne was gone, leaving Robin, as always, worried and puzzled. 'More riddles,' he murmured. 'Always riddles.'

Wickham had not seen any strangers. Neither had Duxford. But in Leaford, Bren the Carter took the group of men round to his stables. 'We found this horse wandering yesterday, Robin,' he said, indicating an elegant, black horse, with a white flash down its nose.'  
'A beauty,' Robin said, appreciatively. 'And no sign of a rider.'  
'None. We searched for quite some time. But Gisburne's men were in the Forest too. They might have found someone.'  
At that moment, a scruffy child ran up to them. 'Tom the Peddler's come !' he shouted excitedly.   
Robin looked at Data. 'Come !' he said. 'He might have news.'  
For a moment, Data stood, looking at the horse. A beauty. A black beauty. He blinked rapidly, accessing deep in his memory banks. Yes, surely it would be such a horse that Wesley would have conjured up from the Holodeck computers. Black Beauty.

The peddler sat on an upturned bucket, surrounded by the villagers. Judging by the hilarity, he had a good story to tell. As Robin drew near, the villagers drew back, to allow him to reach the ragged little man.  
'Good tales to tell, Master Tom ?' Robin asked, leaning on his bow.  
'Many, Robin i'the hood,' the Peddler said. 'Some young ruffian knocked Sir Guy of Gisburne off his horse yesterday.'  
'A tourney ?' Robin asked.  
'Nay, nothing so elegant. A simple collision, leaving Gisburne in the mud, with the prospect of a long walk home.'  
Data, who had drawn close, spoke next. 'And the other man ? What became of him?'  
'Clapped in the dungeons at Nottingham, I do believe. That should calm him down.'  
Robin drew Data aside. 'Could it be your friend ?'  
Data nodded. 'I am sure of it, Robin. That is Wesley's horse. What do we do now ?'

Geordi woke once more, his head clear even if he ached from head to toe. Where was he ? Then he remembered. Wesley. The Holodeck. And his Visor. He reached out blindly, to no avail. Gone. He struggled to sit up, tossing aside the heavy hides covering him. 'Data?' he called. 'Anyone ?'  
'Marion ? He's awake again !' Much called out, as Marion came running across the campsite. She took his hands in hers, and helped him sit up. 'Don't worry,' she said, softly. 'You are safe here.'  
'Safe with Robin,' said Much in the distance. 'I'm sorry you got hurt. We didn't mean it !'  
'It's all right,' Geordi said, rubbing his head. 'Where am I ? Where is this place ?'  
'Sherwood Forest,' Marion replied. 'With Robin Hood's men.'  
'You don't sound like an outlaw !' Geordi murmured gently, wishing he knew where his VISOR was.   
'You should see her with a longbow !' Another voice. 'Tuck's the name,' it continued. 'Is he ready for some food, Marion.'  
Marion smiled. Somehow Geordi knew it. From the sunshine in her voice,perhaps. 'I think so, Tuck.'  
Somehow, sitting deep in the middle of an unknown forest, sharing a meal with people who should have been mere computer creations, listening to the birdsong and Marion's gentle laughter, Geordi knew he was happy. Happier than he had been for some time.

Melissa Julian, however, was not happy. She had wandered aimlessly through the forest, tripping over roots and getting hopelessly lost. She had seen no sign of Worf, or of anyone else for that matter. She gazed up to the tree tops, wishing the slender, golden figure of Robert of Huntingdon would drop down at her feet. It had happened so often in her dreams. And then he would pick her up, and carry her off into the forest. Then somehow she would kiss away his cares and mend his broken heart. Tears gathered in her eyes. She knew so little of Wesley's plans - for all she knew, Robin of Loxley could still be alive, and Robert... visions of saving him, defying the Sheriff. And then she broke out into a clearing by a pond. And there sat a figure she knew. A figure she recognised. 'Gulnar !' she whispered to herself as she turned to run. Surely Wesley would never have recreated something so evil? She had to get away, to warn the Captain, or Worf. With luck ... But luck was not on Melissa's side, as Gulnar slowly turned to where she stood, as if frozen.   
A grotesque smile on his ugly face, Gulnar rubbed his hands together. 'Warrior, oh Warrior. I have a first task for you.' He pointed to the girl, as Lieutenant Worf, barely recognisable, stormed through the trees towards the cowering girl. Stifling a scream, she reached out for something to use as a weapon. Her hand fell on a hand-sized rock, and she hurled it with all her might. But Worf, his eyes wild, simply tossed it aside, and bore down on the girl. His hands round her throat, Melissa reached out with her mind. As the darkness closed in, her last thought was 'Captain Picard ! Help !'   
Later, as he watched his creation toss the frail body aside, Gulnar chuckled to himself. Things augured well for the power of darkness. And badly for Herne and his accursed son.

Far away, on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, Riker looked on in anguish as Counsellor Deanna Troi screamed once, then fell, a crumpled heap, to the ground. He looked up and met Picard's eyes. He read the unspoken question there, and nodded once. It was time for something to be done. Something drastic.

 

'You want what, Gisburne ?' Robert de Rainault, cold, damp and recently returned from an unpleasant visit to his brother's abbey, looked in disgust as his Steward.  
'I want you to hang him. He insulted me !'  
'Insulted you indeed !' The Sheriff got up, and paced round the hall, rubbing his hands together. 'Gisburne, I can't hang everyone in the county who insults you. There would be no-one left to pay the taxes !'  
'I could have been seriously injured. I could have broken my neck ! Sheriff, this might have been a premeditated attack on my life ! I demand that you hang him !'  
'Demand ? ' The Sheriff stopped in front of where Gisburne sat, towering over him. 'Since when do you make demands of me, Gisburne ?' Then, because he was cold and tired, and disinclined to argue, he waved a weary hand. 'Oh, very well, Gisburne. Bring him to me. And then I will decide if he is to hang. Understood ?'

Back at the outlaws’ campsite, there were many glum faces round the fireside. 'We can't get into Nottingham Castle !' Will Scarlet said, shaking his head.   
'What's likely to happen to Wesley ?' Geordi, still visorless, asked of Marion, in a low voice. He could feel her shudder before answering.  
'They could hang him. Gisburne would not take kindly to being knocked off his horse. Has he no powerful relatives who could petition for his release ?'  
'His father is dead, and his mother far away. He - he was left to our charge. We must get him out of there. Somehow. Anyhow.'  
Marion took his hand. 'I think it is remarkable that a sightless man should take such great risks for anyone. This must all feel very strange to you.'  
Geordi smiled. 'You help make it less strange, Lady Marion,' he said. Then, more quietly, 'I would like to know what you look like.'  
Marion gently lifted both his hands, and laid them on her face. Lightly, gently, he ran his sensitive fingers over her delicate features, then through her mass of auburn hair. 'You are beautiful,' he said, catching her hand and brushing it with his lips.  
'Thank you,' she murmured. She took her hand away, but still sat there, by his side. Geordi, in spite of the darkness that surrounded him, was happy.   
On the other side of the fire, Robin watched, his heart heavy. He loved Marion so much, yet was rarely permitted such familiarity as she had granted this stranger. Was it simply that he had taken her dead husband's place ?. Taken his sword, even his name ? Would that always be a barrier between them ? Sensing disquiet in the camp, he tried to think of cheerier things. But there was little cheer in Sherwood that night.

'Well, lad ? What do you have to say for yourself ?'  
'Nothing, Sir. It was an accident.'  
'Accident ? Huh !' Gisburne, standing by the Sheriff's side, snorted.  
'Shut up, Gisburne !' the Sheriff continued. 'You are obviously no serf, nor a peasant, in spite of the way you are dressed. I suspect you can read, and write.'  
Wesley, amazed, nodded. 'Yes, of course !'  
'And you will most probably have grateful parents, who will gladly reward us for your return ?'  
Wesley, lips pursed, did not speak.  
'Well, are you going to send to them, or are you going to die ?'  
'Die ? What for ?'  
'For your miserable attempt on my Steward's life, of course. You have a simple choice, boy. What will it be ?'  
Wesley, his heart heavy, knew he was doomed. 'Then I will die,' he said, quietly.  
As the guards led Wesley back to the dungeons, the Sheriff sighed. 'A shame he is so stubborn,' he said. 'We could really use a large sum of money from grateful parents. The coffers are very bare, thanks to Robin Hood. And we must shortly send a present to King John.'  
Gisburne, on the defensive as soon as Robin Hood was mentioned, moved slightly away from the Sheriff. 'We could try some torture, my Lord,' he suggested.  
The Sheriff shook his head. 'Not this time. Is there nothing else we can go on ? Did he say nothing when he was captured ?'  
Gisburne thought back. 'Various excuses. Said he was a stranger here. He tried to apologise,and thought that would suffice. Insolent puppy ! I quickly robbed him of that idea!'  
'So you knocked him senseless, I suppose.'  
'Why, yes,' Gisburne looked slightly sheepish.  
'Call in the guard who were with him. Perhaps they heard something. Anything !'

The two men stood nervously in front of the Sheriff, wondering what they had done, and what price they would pay. It was a hard life, in the Sheriff's guards, but at least they usually had food and a roof over their heads. Even if it did leak.  
Eventually the Sheriff turned round. 'Ah !' he said, almost jovially. 'The Guards. Two days ago you brought in a young man, unconscious. Tell me, did he say anything when you were near him.'  
The men looked at each other, clearly surprised. 'He muttered a bit,' one said.  
'Murmured something. Just nonsense, my Lord.'  
'The Sheriff will judge what is nonsense and what isn't !' snapped Gisburne.  
'As you say,' the Sheriff answered, giving his Steward a withering look. 'Tell me, what was this nonsense.'  
'I caught the word "enterprise". And then "Picard". The rest was gibberish.'  
De Rainault sat back, considering. 'Picard, eh ?' Picardy. Could he be a spy ?'  
'Whose spy ?' Gisburne looked confused.'  
'How should I know ? Anyone's spy ! Whoever he is, I think we should get him to the King.'  
'The King ?'  
'Are you going to repeat everything I say, you idiot ? We will take him to the King, because if he is the King's spy, we would lose our heads if we hang this man. And if he is a foreign spy, then John might be grateful.'  
'We take him to Newark, then ?'  
'To Newark. Under guard. We will not let this one get away !'

Gulnar sat by the water, and watched his Warrior. Such a noble face. Such hands ! Such a fitting slave for the mighty Gulnar, soon to be the conqueror of Light. He threw Worf another hunk of meat. 'Soon, my Warrior. Soon we attack. When the moon has left the sky, and all is in my favour. Then we will strike. And with my magic, and your strength, our victory is secure.'  
Worf grunted in agreement.

'Data, is that you ?' Geordi felt a familiar touch on his shoulder.  
'Yes, my friend,' Data said, sitting down by his friend's side. 'I am glad to see you looking so much better.'  
'Now, if you'll just give me my VISOR back, I'll be fine.'  
Data took the silver mask from beneath the cloak he wore. 'I have it here, Geordi. But I doubt that it will be of much use to you. Even if these people could accept technology of this level, I fear that the damage it has sustained is beyond our means of repair.'  
Geordi took the Visor in gentle hands, sliding it in place. Instantly, he took it off again. 'Whew !' he said. 'It sure is broken.' He rubbed his head. Then he groaned. 'Data, what am I going to do ? Unless we get out of here, I'm really going to be blind. For ever !' Data, eyes full of compassion, watched his friend, wishing he had the right words to comfort him, words from the heart, not from some suitable databank.  
'We will get out, Geordi. We must.' But somehow the words did not seem to comfort Geordi, whose heart was already torn in two at the thought of leaving. Of leaving Marion.

Tuck rushed into the campsite, panting heavily. Throwing a brace of rabbits on the ground, he looked at Data. 'Where's Robin ?'  
'I believe he is by the riverbank,' Data said. 'Is something wrong ?'  
But Tuck was off, crashing through the undergrowth to where the outlaws were resting. 'Come on, you lazy lot,' Tuck yelled. 'There's work to be done.'  
'Work ? What work ?' Little John shouted, splashing the fat friar with icy water from the river.   
'The lad. The one who knocked Gisburne from his horse. Rumour is that he's to be taken to Newark. For the King to see. They say he's a spy ! From Picardy, I heard.'  
Data looked at Geordi, and they both nodded. Picardy. Picard. It had to be. 'That's Wesley !' Geordi said.  
'The Newark road. We'll set up an ambush. Data, can you use a bow ?' Barely pausing for answers, Robin set about what he did best. The cunning, intricate plot took shape, and soon the band of outlaws were heading for the chosen site. As they left the site, Robin took Marion to one side. 'You do understand why I asked you to stay behind ?' he said, softly. Marion nodded. 'We will miss you out there,' he concluded, squeezing her hand in farewell. Marion watched him go, still seeing his face before her. And his eyes, those eyes so full of longing. So full of love. A love she could not bring herself to return. Not yet. She sat down, her heart heavy, tears gathering in her eyes. Geordi, sensing something wrong, stretched out a hand, and caught a falling tear.   
'Marion ? What's wrong ?'  
'Oh, Geordi,' she said, falling into his arms. And together they sat there, in each other's arms, until the sun was high in the sky.

'Data ? You take the left side, with John and Will. I'll be on the right, with Nasir. Much and Tuck will operate the ropes. Everyone ready ?'  
Hidden in the long grass, Data turned to Will Scarlet. He was growing to like the blunt, quarrelsome ex-soldier. 'The guards,' he asked. 'How will they be armed ?'  
'Crossbows,' Little John said, 'And swords. Possibly longbows.'   
'We're better than them,' said Will, bluntly.  
'We hope,' John replied.  
'Will, may I ask something ? Something personal.' Data turned his sincere gold eyes towards Will.  
'I suppose so. What d'you want to know ?'  
'There is something I don't understand. About Marion. And Robin. From the stories I had heard I thought they were a couple.' Behind him, Little John sighed. Will was suddenly quiet and tense. 'Have I said something wrong ?' Data asked.  
'Nay, lad, you've a right to ask,' said John. 'But it touches on something we try to forget. A dark time.'  
Will, ferociously plucking grass from the bank, turned away from Data. 'Marion was married to Robin of Loxley. Herne's son. The first Robin.'  
'The Sheriff killed him,' John continued. 'And Herne chose Robert of Huntingdon to be his successor.'  
'But he's just Robin now. One of us.' It had taken Will a while to come to terms with that.  
Data, eyes wide and curious, looked at Little John. 'But Robin loves Marion.'  
John sighed. 'Aye, lad. I noticed that too.'  
The three glum faces were suddenly brought to action by Nasir's whispered call. 'Horses !'

The plan was simple and effective. Tuck and Much pulled ropes taut across the road, silently felling the first horses, then dragging the men into the undergrowth. Then they lay back and waited for the rest of the party. Gisburne was in front, with three guards. Behind him rode the Sheriff, and at the rear, Wesley, arms tied behind him, with two guards to make sure he stayed upright on the horse.   
Robin, across the road from Data, questioned him with his eyes. Data nodded in return. Ready.   
Arrows seemed to fly from no-where. Gisburne's companions were rapidly picked off. While Robin confronted the Sheriff, an arrow aimed straight for his heart, Data rushed to Wesley, knocking the guards away. He scooped up the boy, and headed for the bank.  
Turning to check on the others, Data watched with horror as Gisburne broke away, grabbed a crossbow from a fallen guard, and took aim. The outlaws looked on, stunned, unable to move, as the bolt left the bow, and flew through the air. Only Data knew what had to be done. Using all his android strength he jumped from the bank, leapt in the air and caught the swiftly flying bolt between his fingers, just before it was due to plant itself in Robin's chest. The friction burning his pseudo-skin, the force carried him on, and he and Robin landed in a heap at the Sheriff's feet.   
But by then the outlaws had sprung into action. Gisburne, sensing rather than seeing the arrows pointed at him, gave his horse a kick, and galloped away. As Robin scrambled to his feet, Albion raised high, the Sheriff, after a half-hearted yell of 'Gisburne, get back here!' turned and fled. The remaining guards joined them, and soon only the outlaws were left in the midday sun on the Newark road.

'You saved my life,' Robin said, taking Data by the hand.  
'How did you do that ? I've never seen anything so fast ?' Will clapped Data on the shoulder. 'Said he was a good man, didn't I ?' he said to Little John.  
'Aye, Will, you did !' Much said. 'Lucky we found them, weren't it ?'  
Even Nasir, eyes bright in his solemn face, nodded his approval.  
Data stood by Robin, trying to hide his hand in the folds of his jacket. For beneath the scorched skin, the delicate circuitry of his fingertips was clearly visible. And he did not want anything to spoil the unexpected comradeship he had found amongst these people. Then he turned as a familiar voice called him. Wesley, paler than usual, emerged from the bushes, rubbing his wrists. 'Thanks for saving me, Data,' he said.  
'It is not me you should thank,' Data replied, ever truthful. 'But Robin, and his men.'  
'What do you mean, his men?' Will said. 'Aren't you one of us, now. Come on, Data, we could use a man like you.'

'Marion ? I would like to go for a walk.' Geordi had been restlessly pacing round the camp site, navigating quite successfully in spite of the loss of his visor. He had tried once again to adjust it, but the distorted, nauseating images it returned to his mind were worse than the darkness.  
Marion took his arm. 'I promised to take some herbs to Wickham. Do you think you could walk that far ?'  
'Just try me !' Geordi said, eager for exercise.  
The winter sunshine was warm on his face as he walked by her side through the forest. He wished he could see what lay ahead, but he felt secure by her side, and stepped out with barely any hesitation. The birdsong, the soft smells of a forest slowly emerging from its winter sleep, filled his senses. And by his side, talking to him, holding him, walked a slender, beautiful girl with whom he was rapidly falling in love. In spite of everything, Geordi was happy.

There was commotion in Wickham. 'What's wrong ?' Marion enquired of Edward.  
'The mill has broken down,' he said, his voice heavy. 'We've got but little grain left, and now no means to grind it.'  
'What happened ?' Geordi asked, immediately dropping into Engineering mode.  
'The frost,' Edward replied. 'Split the wood, broke the gears. The man who built it died last year. And there is no-one now who knows what should be done.'  
'Marion, take me there !' Geordi urged. 'I know I cannot see, but I do know my way around machinery. So if you can explain things, be my eyes, perhaps I can help !'  
Edward looked questioningly at Marion. 'Could he really help us ?'  
Marion shook her head. 'I don't know, Edward. But have we any other solution ? I say we try it !'

They were back in the camp before the other party returned, happy to have been able to help. 'You were marvellous, Geordi,' Marion had said, as she had kissed him on the cheek. And that had been worth all the other thanks the villagers had poured on him.  
'Geordi ! You here too ?'   
Geordi instantly knew that Wesley was back. 'Well, I could hardly let Data go off on his own, could I ?' he joked, trying hard to hide his relief at finding Wesley in one piece.  
'I don't know. He did pretty well back there at the ambush.' Wesley remarked. 'He saved Robin's life.'  
'That is not certain, Wesley,' Data interjected. 'The bolt may not have damaged him fatally. But it was best to avoid any accident, I thought.'  
'Data, are you all right ?' Geordi sounded concerned.  
'Nothing that a few minutes with a thermo-fuser could not fix. But out here?' Data gave Geordi his hand, and Geordi examined it. Wesley sat down between them, his head in his hands.  
'Data, Geordi, what have I done ?' he asked. 'This isn't the Holodeck, is it ? So where are we ? And how will we ever get back ?'

Commander Riker hovered anxiously over Deanna Troi as Pulaski examined her.   
'Nothing wrong, as far as I can see.' the Chief Medical Officer stated.  
'Are you sure ?' Riker was still concerned.  
'As I said, Commander : nothing is wrong with her.'  
'She's right, Will,' Deanna said, getting off the couch. 'I just fainted. Don't fuss so.'  
'Riker ? What's happening ?' Picard's voice sounded through the communicator.  
'Councellor Troi has regained consciousness,' he answered. 'We'll be with you in a moment.'

Back in the ready room, Picard resumed his pacing. 'Well, Councellor. Have you anything to add ?'  
She looked up at him, her dark eyes huge in her pale face. 'There is something dreadfully evil out there. Something so dark, so ... ' words failed her. 'I cannot describe it. But we must destroy it, or it could envelop everything.'  
'But what is it ?' Riker asked.  
Deanna shook her head. 'I don't know. But I would know it if I could get closer. Captain, you must let me accompany you into the Holodeck.'  
'Impossible !' That was Riker.  
'Not so fast, Number One. It might be the only way to find what is causing our current problem. I want you on the transporter controls. Councellor Troi and I will beam into the middle of the Holodeck.'  
Troi faced Riker, her eyes boring into his mind. 'There is one more advantage to this, Commander,' she said, softly. 'You and I can occasionally reach each other mentally. For such a mission, this might be useful.' And in his mind, he heard the rest of her sentence. 'Imzadi, I do not forget !'  
'We are agreed, then,' the Captain concluded. 'Will it take you long to set up the transporter ?'  
'Give me five minutes.' Riker said. 'This is our last shot. I don't want to take any chances !'

They were sitting round the campfire, sharing roast venison, when the attack came. Much, perched up in a tree, was the first to see him. Barely unable to believe what he had seen, he nearly fell, and landed in a heap at Tuck's feet.   
'Hungry, Much ?' the Friar asked, prodding him with a lazy foot.  
'Robin ! Nasir ! There's someone - or something - coming. He's huge ! And hairy ! And ugly !'  
'You've been eating too much,' Little John teased. 'Overeating makes you see things!'  
'Calm down, Much !' Robin said. Turning to Nasir, he said in a low, urgent voice. 'Nasir, take a look. The rest of you, get your weapons. This may be what Herne warned me about.'  
Then Worf burst into the clearing, and they all knew the Warrior had arrived. For Worf, arms flying, almost unstoppable, flung the outlaws around as if they had been dry logs. Bewitched, enchanted, possessed. One by one the outlaws fell. Until only four remained. Data, Robin. Nasir. And Worf.  
Nasir squared up against the huge Klingon. His swords at the ready, he moved slowly, daring the giant to fight. Then the blows began, and the clash and clang of swords rang through the clearing. Robin waited, as did Data, to come to Nasir's assistance when the time was right. And somewhere in the undergrowth, Wesley looked on, battered and sore, at the stranger that Lieutenant Worf had become. The eyes. It was in the eyes that you could see the difference. Those eyes never belonged to the fierce, proud Klingon. His eyes were dead.

Gulnar, watching in the depths of his pool, chuckling to himself, became aware of a change in the rippling waters. 'Danger approaches !' he whispered. 'The One Who Leads, and the One who Senses All ! Protect, I must protect myself.' And, weaving words of dark magic, he froze the link between Holodeck 4 and Sherwood Forest. 

It was Wesley who noticed it first. Somehow, Worf's eyes had changed. Had gone from a beast blindly fighting, to a man relishing a combat. As if in slow motion, he saw Robin signal to Data, and the two men prepare to finish off the fight. Shouting at the top of his voice, he joined the melee. 'Data ! Don't! Can't you see ? Worf is back to normal !'  
Data, half lying on top of the Klingon, grabbed Robin's wrist, preventing Albion's inexorable descent towards Worf's unprotected throat. 'Commander Data,' the Security Chief whispered. 'How did I get here ?' Then, struggling to get up, he shook his head as if to clear it. 'The boy ?'  
'I'm here too, Worf,' Wesley said.  
'You were enchanted,' Robin added. 'Lucky for you Wesley noticed the end of its effect. Why did you not stop fighting ?'  
'I was enjoying the combat,' Worf admitted, turning to Nasir. 'You fight well. Better than any human I have ever seen. I would dearly like to learn that double handed technique...' Nasir nodded, and the two warriors strolled away.  
The other outlaws joined the group in the middle of the clearing, rubbing heads, arms and legs. 'What was that ?' Will asked, leaning on Data's shoulder as he massaged his foot.  
'A friend of ours,' Geordi replied. 'He's all right. Really !'  
Robin had drawn away from the others. Staring into the distance, leaning on his sword, his face was grim. 'Gulnar is behind all this,' he said softly. 'Gulnar. And he will strike again ! 

It was quiet in Holodeck 4. They had not known what to expect, but neither of them had thought to find such peace, such quiet beauty. A deep forest, a clearing. Birdsong. Sun shining through the branches. Picard, just in case, activated his communicator. 'Riker ?'   
'Captain ! Are you all right ?'  
Picard looked around him. 'Everything seems normal. Perfectly so. Check the status on the monitors, will you ? I don't like to interrupt the program until we know what has happened to the others.'  
Then it all happened at once. Deanna Troi, with a cry of dismay, found the battered body of Melissa Julian. And Riker reported that computer showed three people on the holodeck.'  
'Found her, Number One,' the Captain replied. 'She's alive, but only just. Can you get the door open ?  
The engineer's voice joined in. 'No sir, it's still fused shut.'   
'Very well. Prepare to beam her out.'  
'And you, Sir ?'  
'No, we stay here. The mystery is not solved yet.'  
They set off through the woods, following the beaten track. Deanna, her face pale and grim, led the way. The strain of opening her mind to such evil was showing. Finally, they emerged from the deep wood into a clearing.  
'It's here, Captain. I can hardly stand it.'  
'What precisely, Troi ?' Picard tried to support his Councellor, who had practically fainted again.  
'The pond. The water. It is source to some great evil. It operates through this.' She sighed once, then tried to gather herself together. 'We must get rid of it !'  
'Get rid of it ?' Picard repeated, bemused.  
'Beam it out of here. Disperse it into space. Destroy it. Anything !' She was almost crying, distraught by trying to control the emotions that almost overwhelmed her. 'Captain, if we do not rid ourselves of this, we will never get the others back. Ever.'  
'Riker ? Report please !'  
'The Julian kid is in Sickbay. Her parents have been contacted. What next ?'  
'Another job for the transporter. There is a large body of water here. Lock on to it, and transport it out. Disperse it in space.'  
'Captain ? Are you serious ?'  
'Deadly so.'

It was time to open the passage between the worlds again. Gulnar was sprinkling some noxious substances into the rippling surface of the pool when it happened. As if a plug had been removed, the water started funnelling away. Wide eyed, feeling his grip lessen, he tried to summon up the dark spirits he worshiped. But the words came out strangely, his power diminishing as the water fled from the pond. Desperate to salvage the source of his magic, he jumped into the water, as if to stem the flow. And then, he too, slowly, inexorably, was sucked through time and space. And stood, for a moment, wide eyed and screaming, in front of those who would destroy him. Eyes wild, he stared at Deanna Troi and the Captain. He opened his mouth to fling out a curse, but then a strange, tingling sensation came over him. And, as Commander Riker, in the transporter room, completed the sequence of commands, let rip a final yell as his atoms dispersed into the nothingness that surrounds everything that is.  
'What was that ?' Picard leant against a treetrunk, his face pale.  
Deanna slowly opened her eyes. 'That was the evil one. I believe his name was Gulnar. It is all over now.'  
Picard looked up at her. 'Not quite. We are still missing four members of my crew !'  
'They will return,' Deanna said, confidently.

'What should we do ? Confront this Gulnar ?' Worf was ready for battle against the man who had enthralled him.  
Robin shook his head. 'He is powerful. We need to wait for the right time...' But his words were lost forever, as swirling light and mist enveloped the grove, and Herne's stern features looked down on them.  
'My son, I bring you good news. Gulnar's power has been conquered. For now, his power is gone. But do not be too jubilant, for he will return.'  
'But how -' Robin asked, puzzled.  
'A passage was opened through time and space. Gulnar's doing. Your new friends crossed, but their leader closed it. He is to be thanked.'  
'Captain Picard ?' Wesley gasped, slightly in awe of this godly presence.  
Herne nodded. 'I will open the passage once more, to allow you to cross back. For you must return to your own time, else the continuity of the universe be broken. I give you time to say goodbye, then you must go.'  
Data turned to where Will sat, a strange look on the gruff man's face. 'I hoped you'd stay,' he said, simply.  
'I wish I could,' Data answered. 'It would have been good. Fare well, Will Scarlet. I will not forget you.' He took his hand with his undamaged hand, and gripped it. Then he turned to Robin, to say the goodbye that must be said. 'I would have stayed, Robin,' he told him, looking the young man deep in his eyes. 'I would have been proud to follow you.'  
Wordlessly, Robin shook his hand. 'Fare well, Data,' he said. 'Herne protect you.'

Geordi, standing by Marion's side, felt the light shine on him. He shivered as mist enveloped his feet. Then the voice rang out. 'Lieutenant Geordi LaForge, you have helped my people. Your bravery in affliction has made you worthy of reward. A temporary reprieve, so you can see your heart's desire.' A great light shone down, and Geordi blinked, his eyes clear. He turned, and looked at Marion. She stood in the firelight, her hair shining auburn, her eyes bright, her skin very clear.  
'Thank you, Herne.' Geordi murmured. And Herne answered, in his head, a voice for him alone.  
'She is not for you, Geordi LaForge. Your paths lie apart. But remember her, and be comforted by the thought that you comforted her.' Then the light was gone, and Geordi was left wondering if he had really seen her at all. But her picture was blazed bright in his mind, and he knew he would carry the image of that beauty forever. He reached out for her hand, and swiftly kissed her lips. 'Goodbye, Marion,' he whispered. 'And thank you.'

'We did not have time to practice together,' Worf said.  
'A shame,' Nasir answered. 'You fight well.'  
'And you.'  
Nasir picked up his spare sword harness.'Take it. Practice. You might need it one day.'  
Worf nodded his head. 'Thank you. Fight well, Nasir.'

A light shone in the distance. 'The passage,' Robin said, alert to Herne's will. 'I wish it were not so, but you must go. Farewell, my friends. Herne protect you.'  
'And you, Robin,' Data said. 'All of you.'  
At the last moment, Wesley darted back. He pressed a small package into Tuck's hand. 'I brought this for Marion,' he said. 'But then I changed my mind. Give it to her if ever you think it would help.'  
'God bless you, Wesley,' Tuck murmured, as the boy darted behind his friends into the patch of light. Unseen by the others, he opened the package. A small picture lay inside. Robin of Loxley. Staring at the picture of Marion's dead husband, Tuck heaved a great sigh. It was not the right time to give this to Marion, he agreed. But the day might come. Perhaps.  
Marion, feeling very alone, moved slightly closer to Robin's side. Tentatively, he put an arm round her, and felt warmed as she leant reassuringly on him. 'I'll miss them,' she said, softly.  
'So will I. Data would have made an interesting addition to our band.'  
'And Geordi too,' she added, so quietly that even Robin doubted hearing it.

Captain Picard and Deanna Troi looked on in amazement as a strange procession appeared from the trees. Worf led, dressed in the tattered remains of his uniform, carrying two swords in a strange harness. Data and Geordi followed, strangly dressed, Geordi holding Data's arm as he picked his way through the undergrowth. Wesley brought up the rear, pale and slightly unsteady.  
'Welcome back, gentlemen,' Picard said. 'I am glad to see you, believe me. But how did you get in such a state in such a short time ? I hope to see you properly dressed, when you report to my office in thirty minutes time. And then, you will have some explaining to do !'  
Wesley looked at the Captain, mystified. 'Short time ? But we've been days in Sherwood !'  
Data, his head on one side, blinked. 'Actually, Data, my sensors tell me the Captain is correct. Barely three hours have passed since you missed your duty shift. However,' a strange look came over the android's face, 'My memories tell me that we did experience two nights in the Forest. Most intriguing.'  
A voice came over the Captain's communicator. 'We think we've fixed the door, Sir.'  
Data looked around him, and his face broke into, for him, a broad smile. 'Computer, stop program !' he said. 'Open Door.'  
Then, as the door opened, they all cheered. However, as they walked out of the holodeck, each one of them looked back, a strange expression on his face. And each one of them felt a strange loss at leaving so much behind. Picard, the last to leave, sighed. 'I was looking forward to visiting the Middle Ages,' he complained to Councellor Troi.  
Wesley looked back at his Captain. 'I could always rewrite the program,' he suggested, half seriously.  
Picard growled at him. 

Commander Data, the skin on his hand newly fused, met Wesley as he emerged from Sickbay, where he had been visiting Melissa. 'Wesley, something has been bothering me. May I ask a question ?'  
'Certainly, Data !' Wesley looked jubilant.  
'Why did you go to so much trouble recreating a holodeck image of a man the girl you wanted to impress believed she was in love with ? It does not seem a sensible way to proceed.' Data looked puzzled.  
Wesley laughed. 'It doesn't, if you look at it like that, does it ? But it worked for me!'  
Mystified, Data went on his way. Passing one of the holodecks he noticed that Worf was exercising inside. Worf, dressed in black, was wielding Nasir's swords against a dark-haired opponent. The men were perfectly matched. Worf, Data thought, looked very happy.

Wesley was not Melissa's only visitor that evening. Geordi, his VISOR readjusted and back in place, asked if he could see her. 'You're the expert, Wesley says,' he asked, slightly hesitantly.  
'The expert ? On what ?'  
'Robin Hood. And Marion. What happened, in the end ?'  
Melissa sighed. 'She fell in love with Robert. But in the end she left him. She couldn't risk losing him again. Not after Loxley.'  
'Poor Robert,' Geordi said, heading for the door. 'I know just how he must have felt.'

The bridge crew was almost back to normal. Data at the Ops station, Wesley at the helm. Geordi at Engineering glanced back towards Worf, who towered above the security station. Picard glanced left and right to Troi and Riker. It was good to have them back. 'Mr Data ? ' he asked. 'Tell me, what did you think of Robin Hood ? '  
Data put his head to one side, considering. 'He was a good man,' he said, seriously. 'There was a fire, a sincerity. A need to help the people. A born leader.' He thought for a while, then concluded. 'Not unlike you, Captain.'  
Picard, touched, was about to recommend a change of course when the main screen seemed to blur and glow. A swirl of mist and light lit the bridge, and in the midst of it, stood an antlered figure.  
'Herne !' Data whispered, getting to his feet. Picard too, rose to his feet.  
'I thank you for the help you have given my son,' Herne said, his voice resonating round the bridge. 'Our times have touched for a short while, and both are the richer for that.' Herne seemed to glance round, his eyes touching each of them individually.  
'Nothing's forgotten. Nothing is ever forgotten.'  
And all of them, as they watched Herne's image fade from the screen, knew it was true.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Star Trek did their own Robin Hood episode ... but this was my version ... written at least 20 years ago, posted on the internet for first time, in an attempt to store some of my stories away from my own pc


End file.
